


Constellation

by nanamonella, Nibi



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Stardust, M/M, Magic, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Possible Character Death, Possible violence, Questionable Casting, Slow Burn, Stardust AU, possible ooc, vague sex scene
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-12-30 06:08:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12102444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nanamonella/pseuds/nanamonella, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nibi/pseuds/Nibi
Summary: When the celestial body crushes into the ground, several lives fall out of their usual trajectory.





	Constellation

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Konstelacja](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11776020) by [nanamonella](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nanamonella/pseuds/nanamonella). 



> A mashup of Yuri on Ice and Stardust book/movie. First chapter is pretty faithful to the original. You don't need to know Stardust to enjoy this fic though.
> 
> Big shout-out to Nibi who not only witnessed the birth of this fic from a not very serious remark I made and watched it grow later on, but also let it be reborn in English. You're absolutely the best. - nanamo
> 
> Translator’s (Nibi's) note: my sincerest and humblest thanks to [@ch-ch-ch-cherrybomb](http://archiveofourown.org/users/chchchchcherrybomb/pseuds/chchchchcherrybomb), who kindly agreed to take a look how English is my English. Any remaining mistakes are mine and not hers. You are a diamond, bun.  
> (We don't know each other, but I'm also very thankful! - n.)

Some say the story began that night when sky suddenly trembled with thunderous whizz. The moment when a blinding flash cut the spheres and a celestial body has fallen to the Earth. But I say the story began much earlier, eighteen years before in the sleepy, although charming town of Almaty.  


Almaty was as sleepy and ordinary as any sleepy, ordinary, half forgotten little town. You know the ones, somewhere in the middle of nowhere and hidden within the forest. You could get there through only one road, winding through bushes of berries, to the point it becomes the path instead. And when you finally got there, you could see dense group of stone houses, tucked under their grey roofs and with smokestacks pointing at the sky.  


And the people of Almaty were the same as their town - ordinary to the bone. No one was doing anything amazing. Good people, they were, each one of them has their job, inherited from their parents and passed to their children. Some were merchants, some of them makers of things, some among them shepherds or farmers - and each one of them has their place in this tiny community. They were staying in their lanes for centuries and nothing unusual was disturbing the order of things. When the time arrives, they finish their work and head to rest at home or to Nekola’s Inn for a pint of beer (you never tasted better one!), to talk about things now, the ones that passed and the ones yet to come.  


Although the normality of Almaty was highly unusual itself, considering their closest neighbourhood. And what was there? Almaty was surrounded by forest from all sides except east – the wall marked the end of the town there. But what was so unusual about this wall in particular, one of many other walls in many other cities?  


That wall was a border. It kept apart what was ordinary and what was magical.  


At first glance, the realm of magic was not any different from ours. But even though grass was beautifully green, no one dared to pass there with their sheep. But if you peeked through the hole in the wall, and there was one, right next to the town, you could sometimes catch a glimpse of creatures from the Otherside – some of them big, some pretty small, or hairy as a boar, or glittering and transparent like a mist.  


The people of Almaty were taught from the very beginning not to trust anything coming from the Otherside, as obviously anything coming from there was up to no good. All cautionary tales were surprisingly effective, and even if there was a child daring enough to try a trip to the hole, the elder’s rants kept them at bay the next time.  


On top of that, the town had its guards. After coming of age, a young man was allowed to join adults guarding the hole day and night. They were ready to scare off anyone who would try to pass the border to the Otherside.  


But there is always an exception.  


Every nine years, the two worlds reunited just for a few days, during the Fair. The inhabitants of both realms met, sold their goods, drink and for a moment forgot how much divides them.  


Almaty was starting to get busy a few weeks early. Strangers from all over the world were heading to town – tall and short, with various skin colours, speaking foreign languages and dressed in strange clothes. And all of them were going to the Fair, to sell and buy the most astounding objects that you would not even dream about. People of Almaty looked at them with caution not much different from the one they used for magic folk, but still treated them with their best hospitality.  


And even with creeping uneasiness, they were still curious of these come from aways. And when guests started to share tales of their adventures from farther places, genuine kindness arose. And after Nekola’s Inn was full, any spare space was rented to anyone looking for it.  


When that time arrived, Bolat Altin was among many others ready to offer a roof for a person in need. His parents had given him a house with hopes it will become a nest soon. But Bolat was still living alone and, having much space to spare, he decided to offer it to someone in need.  


It was his first Fair under his own roof, and he didn’t have experience when it came to renting, but he reasoned it wouldn’t be too hard to find someone who will take his offer. And indeed he was not wrong, although a bit surprised how fast it happened. He was heading to the Inn to see if there was anyone who was not able to get a room there. The streets were extremely busy, so it took him longer than usual, and the Inn was no different. For sure he will find someone he can offer a room. Loud sigh knocked his train of thought.  


“I’m late” lamented a silver-haired man. He looked very troubled.  


“What happened?” asked Bolat.  


“The Inn is full, and this year is so busy, probably all rooms elsewhere are taken too… Well, in worst case I’ll sleep under the stars…” He didn’t look thrilled about it.  
“What a coincidence. I have a spare room I can offer you.”  


“Oh, really?” There was a glimmer of hope in stranger’s eyes.  


Altin nodded.  


“Marvelous!” his mouth formed a most exquisite smile that reminded Bolat of a heart. “Let’s discuss the details, my benefactor, with a pint of beer or glass of liquor! Beds may be taken, but we should manage to get piece of a table!”  


And they did. The stranger introduced himself as Viktor Nikiforov of Russia. Bolat should have figured it, considering how his guest spoke and dressed. Or even by his look – he was tall and slim, with skin white and hair so fair it resembled silver in certain light. He was extremely friendly and easy-going, but there were moments Bolat felt uneasy when those blue eyes almost pierced him. And on top of that he said he was a magician.  


Altin considered him a tad eccentric, but decent person. His occupation may be suspicious, but he felt Viktor was kind and honest man. He didn’t have proof, and he knew him too short to have any own experience, but he learned to trust his intuition long ago. He could guess someone’s intentions easily and it never let him down.  


When their pockets and heads felt light, Bolat took his guest home. He showed him around, and prepared a bed while Viktor was refreshing himself after long journey. They wished each other goodnight and went to sleep.  


During the next few days a bond of mutual understanding was formed. Bolat took Viktor on a tour around the town, showing him interesting places and adding anecdotes about them. In return he got to hear stories from all over the world and even though he was not entirely sure how much truth and how much colour Viktor added to them, it didn’t really matter, since they were incredibly entertaining. He also quickly found out how much of a taster Russian mage is, pointing every new discovery with joyful “Vkusno!”. He was also a night owl. What was he doing? Bolat didn’t know that and wasn’t going to try to find out.  


When the day of the Fair arrived, Bolat got up early, served breakfast, and walked with Viktor to the wall, unguarded today. He himself couldn’t wait to see the Otherside and its miracles and wonders.  


“Dear Bolat” said Viktor before they passed the hole. “I said I will pay for your hospitality and I will do as I said. But you have no idea how enormous favor you did me taking me under your roof. I would like to give you a gift.”  


“There is no need…” started Altin, but the other waved his hand and continued “A gift. And my gifts are lasting, so also your first child will have a use of it, and maybe even their first child. So, today you will find your heart’s desire!”  


“Heart’s desire? What do you mean?”  


“Oh, even I don’t know that!” exclaimed Viktor with a joyful blink. “But what I know is that your heart’s desire will make itself known and will pull you with power you’ve never experienced before. And the stars told me it’s happening today!”.  


Bolat looked at the sky. It was midday, sun shining. Maybe, if he tried y really hard, he’d be able to see faint suggestion of stars, which would be weird anyway at this time of the day. It must be a metaphor, he concluded. How would stars know about such things? Bullshit. Stars were simply shining somewhere high on the firmament, unconcerned with what was happening below.  


And his heart desired nothing.  


Still, being polite, he thanked Viktor for this flourishing speech (the magician had a talent for those), then bid him goodbye. Both of them had their own plans.  
Bolat looked around.  


Townsfolk stalls stood close to the wall, and the most popular one was that of innkeeper Nekola, best brewer Almaty had in generations. Faeriefolk, particularly faries, were especially enchanted by his green liquor. But the townspeople didn’t eat or drink anyplace else. All of them knew, from warnings from their parents and grandparents, to not eat any food coming from the Otherside. Some tells that it may cause loss of mind or acquisition of horns and tails. Long, long ago (so long that none of the living remembered it themselves) such a thing happened to one of Almaty who was drinking with witch to toast a deal well made. Next day he found himself covered in fish scales and had to move to the pond, otherwise he’d surely die from dehydration.  


Better not to risk it. Having this in mind, Bolat passed stalls full of food, drink and herbs with unusual names and probably even more unusual capabilities. A bit further he could see truly amazing things: jars full of eyeballs peeking at him, lightning bolts locked in containers, shadows sold for weight, paper birds with the ability to fly and many other things he could only guess what were they and what they could do.  


He wandered for a long time. Finally, he decided, it was time for rest and for a pint. He could almost taste the beer in his mouth, when suddenly a sound so beautiful and charming caught his ears, he forgot about the pain and about the beer immediately and followed it with blissful smile. Whatever was making that sound, must be worth seeing.  


He followed the melody to the stall full of glass flowers. Each one of them seemed to play its own song, independent from the rest, but somehow, instead of unbearable cacophony, they were making a choir, the most perfect and most beautiful he’s ever heard.  


Warning thought struck him – it must be charm of some kind, any moment now he’d lose his mind, but he could not resist. He was still examining glass flowers, when a beautiful, brown-eyed girl appeared from caravan behind the stall.  


Bolat saw her and felt something he couldn’t find a name for.  


“Hello, sir” the strange girl said.  


“Hello” he said. “Those flowers. How much?”  


Stranger shook her head.  


“That’s not how we deal here,” she answered. “Let’s talk about stock, then the price.” She gestured to the flowers. “These are flowers of enormous beauty and great usefulness, since each one of them contains a spell. Are you a mage, sir?”  


“No, I’m afraid not, I’m just a simple man of Almaty. Can those flowers be useful for someone like me?”  


He earned a careful look of brown eyes.  


“It can be. Some cast spells with their aid, some simply enjoy their beauty. And they bring it to any place.”  


“I see. Any of them particularly good for this purpose? Though I think my house mostly needs,” said Bolat and blinked, surprised. He was careful with words, so he couldn’t understand how he almost said “mostly needs you”.  


“Needs?” seller said.  


“Heart’s desire,” whispered Viktor passing behind Bolat’s back. He looked after the mage with furrowed brows, then firmly said “needs fair flower”.  


“Oh! So the one you’re looking for is that,” she said, picking a snowdrop and lifting it delicately. “It’s a good flower. Brings luck.”  


“And it’s so beautiful…”  


“Yes. Indeed it is.”  


Bolat took all his money and extended his hand to her.  


“Take as much as it’s worth it.”  


But she laughed, not even making a move to take money from him.  


“No, sir. There is no amount of money in the world close to the worth of this snowdrop.”  


Bolat felt his heart sinking. For some reason he desperately wanted some kind of reminder of their meeting and he thought the flower will do.  


“Don’t be sad. There are other ways to pay.”  


“Other ways? Can I possibly afford to pay them?”  


“That depends solely of you. If you are ready to pay the price. I could take the colour of your hair, that deep blackness. Or hearing from your right ear, or memories since you were three. But your price will be different.”  


“So?”  


“A kiss.”  


“A kiss?”  


“Yes” she confirmed with a smile. “A kiss”.  


“That’s an unusual price, but I’m keen to pay it,” he said, tilting his head to hers.  


When their lips touched, time seemed to disappear. Bolat was not sure how long they were kissing. He felt lightheaded.  


“Your flower,” she whispered, putting it in his hand.  


“What’s your name?”  


“Oh, I have none. I lost it long ago when I was just a little girl and evil witch took me from my father’s land. Now I’m her servant and being called stupid, or girl, or other insults she can think about.”  


“I will free you then.”  


“No, Bolat Altin” she said firmly and he realized she was right. He didn’t question it nor he asked how did she know his name. Perhaps she took it with a kiss. His name and other things.  


“You can’t free me. See this chain?” girl continued, showing him something around her wrist. What he thought was bracelet, turned out to be chain that enslaved her. He tried to break it, with no result.  


“Fish tears and moonlight. Can’t be broken and can’t be taken off by anyone but my mistress. And she won’t let me go. I’ll be free one day, when the Moon loses her child and heir comes back to their homeland. But there is something you can do for me, Bolat Altin.”  


“What is it? Tell me, and I’ll do it if I can.”  


“See that clearing behind the caravan? Be there at midnight.”  


“I will.”  


“Good. Remember, midnight. Now go, before witch comes back.”  


He nodded. “You have my word.”  


He wanted to go back after just few steps. But he knew he had to resist. He’d wait until midnight. When Altin gave his word, he stayed true to it. Perhaps she took that knowledge with the kiss as well.  


The way back felt like a dream. He went, as planned, to Nekola’s stall and drank a pint. But beer, although excellent, couldn’t fulfill his thirst. He forced himself to finish, and gave his colleagues just a word of acknowledge, which worried them greatly. They reckoned he must’ve been charmed. His friend Alain Leroy walked him home, but it seemed Bolat didn’t need further care. He was just staring at the wall, sighing deeply from time to time. Alain adviced him to go to sleep and headed back to the Fair.  


Bolat indeed went to sleep, but was unable to rest. He dreamed of faerie girl. She called him, and he came, and they danced under the moon, exchanging thousands of kisses.  


He woke up in late evening, trembling with excitement that seemed to fill his bones. He refreshed himself and came back to the Fair with a spring in his steps. He passed celebrating townsfolk unnoticed, although he was not trying to hide. He wanted to be at the place as fast as possible and even if all of the men of Almaty tried to stop him, they would fail to do so. Strange energy in his body gave him strength. Maybe that’s why no one saw him. But he didn’t have time to ponder it, in a hurry to the meeting.  


It was still well before midnight when he reached the clearing the seller pointed him to. He put blanket on the grass and waited. She made him wait long. Bolat started to wonder if witch didn’t find out about his promise and kept her servant by force. And what would he do then?  


“You kept your promise, my Bolat.”  


He looked back and smiled in return to her smile, and he kissed her. He felt lightheaded again. Not a pint of beer, just her lips could fulfill his thirst. If he listened to the voice of reason, he would stay away, he was of Almaty on the other side of the wall after all. One doesn’t do such things there. Everything has it’s time and place and nothing could shake established order of things. But Altin was at the point of no return by now. His heart was singing ‘more, more!’.  


And he listened to his heart’s desire. He took her in his arms and danced under the shining stars, and looking at her smile he was not sure who is leading. But did it matter? Even if he tried, he doubted he’d be able to fight the force that lead him here. He let himself in, with feeling that something of incredible importance is happening there and then, under those thousands stars.  


With each step something was being thrown onto the grass. Belt, shirt, and they kept dancing to the melody only they could hear.  


They fell to the blanket, tangled. Their dance was more and more intense, each step more powerful than former. Finally they lost their rhythm, their moves became rampant, until they reached final figure.  


Bolat held her close, breathless. His heart’s desire was fulfilled the moment he took her in his arms. He was kissing her tenderly, whispering sweet nonsense into her ear, and she answered with the same.  


But night was taking her veil off to reveal fair face of dusk, the herald of the sun. The girl touched his face, her smile full of sadness.  


“It’s time.”  


He knew better than to argue. The chain on her wrist was shining, reminding him of his place behind the wall, where she could not follow.  


Finally they parted ways. Bolat with a heavy heart looked at her walking back to the caravan before he left.  


The Fair was finished. The night when two worlds met was over. It was time for things to become as they were again. Bolat knew he must do the same.  


The first weeks were hard for him. His heart ached every time he remembered the magical girl enslaved by the witch. He became quieter, more reserved, lost in his thoughts. He was always a calm person, but everyone noticed the change. Was he charmed at the Fair? Or maybe it was that mage, Viktor?  


Weeks became months, and, to Bolat’s parents’ worry, no change. Their son was still distant, with no signs of wanting to settle. Time flew, but longing didn’t disappear. Pain transformed from sharp to dull, like an old wound.  


Maybe his heart stayed with its desire.  


And it was not meant to be forgotten. It was reminded about itself after a year, in a truly grand way.  


Bolat didn’t expect knocking at his door in the middle of the night. He made his way to the door, still half asleep. One of the guardians of the wall handed him wicker basket with whimpering bundle inside and uncertainty in his own eyes.  


“F-from Otherside.”  


Bolat looked inside. Wrapped in colorful blankets, little boy was wailing loudly. Piece of parchment placed on his stomach proclaimed his name to the world.  


His name was Otabek Altin.

**Author's Note:**

> We're very thankful for any comments and kudos you're willing to give us and we promise Otabek in the next chapter.
> 
> [Nibi](http://nibi-nix.tumblr.com/) @ tumblr  
> [nanamo](http://nanamo.tumblr.com/) @ tumblr


End file.
